Page 91 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

“The woe kitten I’ve lived with this whole week. I told you nothing good would come of you throwing yourself at him. If it was meant to be, he wouldn’t have ignored you for six months.”

Part of me wanted to say, guess what, we fucked, and it was amazing. Which I might have done had he not bailed on me while my thighs were still quaking.

She wouldn’t be impressed on several levels. Definitely not about my recent lost virginity. I could hear her groan now.

Seriously, Daze? You waited for that jerk all these years?

I hadn’t waited for him. That would’ve been ridiculous, considering the only place I’d seen him for years was on the pages of magazines or on websites.

That I bookmarked religiously in my browser.

It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t seem to stay in the zone when I got naked with other men—or even partially naked. The fact that just looking at Oz’s picture gave me all kinds of dirty thoughts probably proved she wasn’t entirely wrong. But the guy was hot.

And I hadn’t thrown myself at him. Exactly. Actually, I’d nearly thrown myself out of his truck before he made me come.

I rubbed my face. How could the single best weekend of my life have so many awful moments mixed in with the incredible ones? The ultimate rollercoaster, that was what it would be like to be with Oz. The highest peaks and the most heartbreaking lows.

No wonder I’d decided I was staying off that ride. He’d nudged me out the door—okay, walked out it himself—but I hadn’t tried to make him change his mind. I’d lived through enough train wrecks to get off the tracks.

All week, I’d had to dodge paparazzi, despite Noah hanging around more than made sense. I wasn’t part of the band, and I didn’t entirely grasp the threat against them anyway. Surely Noah had more important things to do than to randomly show up when I went to lunch near Ever’s apartment before heading to work. Or jumping into my Uber when I traveled across town to visit my old salon and chat with some of my former coworkers.

Every time, he made it seem as if we were just “catching up”, but I hadn’t caught up with him that much since…ever. Like the whole of my life since he’d been in it.

Something weird was going on at Ripper Records, and the random stuff like the graffiti and maybe even the would-be robber at Oz’s cabin seemed not random at all.

But why was the question no one was willing to answer—at least in front of me. I doubted Oz had gotten to the bottom of it yet either.

So, I supposed it was just as well Oz and I didn’t get more involved. I had enough anxiety issues. How freaked out I’d been over the tabloid guy possibly following us had been bad enough, especially on the heels of getting freaking stabbed.

A shallow mark that was healing quite nicely without stitches, but still.

The tabloid types still shouted questions at me I didn’t know how to answer. But Noah always seemed to be th

ere at the right moment to herd me through the maze.

I wasn’t built for dealing with that side of the business, and that wasn’t even saying anything about the public in general. I didn’t know how Oz handled it. He just signed whatever was shoved his way and strolled through the crush of fans as if it was normal to have complete strangers fall in love with you.

And when it came to that tabloid dude, seem to hate you on sight.

“Daze? You okay? You’re not talking.” Ever sighed. “All right, what I said was bitchy. Most of what I say about Oz is, but I don’t want him to screw you up. And if a guy was ever designed to screw up a woman, it’s Ozzy Taylor. Especially since you have a past.”

The emphasis she put on the last word made me laugh. “We do, but that’s exactly what it is. The stuff with Kerry happened a long time ago.”

So long that sometimes I didn’t realize it. Another reason I was forcing myself to go out tonight. I didn’t want to have fun, especially when my heart felt as if it had been skewered. But I wanted some girlfriends. I needed them. If I said no to every invitation, I’d never have any. Teagan was nice, and so was Lindsey. Jamie was too, most of the time. Hopefully, she wouldn’t hold a grudge about me telling her off before the fan club show.

Well, sort of. No one truly told Jamie off and lived to tell the tale unless she was in a benevolent mood.

The whole band was awesome, truthfully. One particular member excluded. Sure, they were the talent, and I was just the hair and makeup chick, but they didn’t make that into a thing.

So, I wouldn’t either.

At least I’d try not to. Right now, it felt as if everything was an issue. Especially the anxiety bubbling in my belly.

Even pulling my jacket hood over my head every time I stepped outside caused my heartbeat to quicken. Because someone—or a few someones—would be out there waiting to shout questions about Kerry and Oz that wounded me as much as a physical attack.

You two haven’t been cozy all week. Is it already finished?

Are you still a user like your poor tragic friend?

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